


tangled threads

by bitterheart



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M, Magic bonds, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: "Do you remember the promise we made when we were kids?"It's a little more complicated than a simple promise.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	tangled threads

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 1 of sylvix week 2020 - AU: urban fantasy.

It's past nine o'clock when Felix when he's jolted awake by a sharp feeling that grabs him in the middle of his chest and pulls until he's sitting up in his bed, shaking and sweating. He can't read the glowing numbers on his bedside clock, too disoriented to focus on them, and he doubles over as a sick feeling ripples through him. 

"Fuck," he groans into the dark room, muffled against his hands. The feeling doesn't recede, not even a little. It's not the kind of feeling that he can ignore, which means that it most likely has some magic behind it. The longer he tries to ignore it, the more insistent it becomes, to the point where it's almost painful.

It's this fact that gets him out of bed, flicking his bedside lamp on and pulling his jeans on. Magic is many things: it's persistent and annoying and inconvenient but it's rarely physically _painful_ like this and that's enough to tell Felix that whatever this is, it's something serious.

Once he's awake enough to focus on the feeling, he reaches for the magical thread behind it, shutting his eyes and listening to it until he can hear it, a soft voice that murmurs at the back of his mind like the steady patter of rain against a window: _follow me follow me follow me_.

His motorbike roars to life but he can still hear the words at the back of his mind and he lets them guide him through the streets until he's in the club district of the city. He's unfamiliar with these parts, disoriented from the thumping bass that leaks out of the buildings and onto the street. He doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it: the shock of red hair in the middle of a dark street capturing his attention like a beacon. 

Felix kills the engine of his bike, parking it far enough away that he doesn't draw attention. He walks closer, his heart caught in his throat as he confirms his suspicions: he knows that hair, he knows that face under the bruises and blood. 

He's watching Sylvain Gautier having shit beaten out of him and with every punch and kick, Felix feels the magic buried in him like a fish hook, tugging that little bit harder until he finally recognises it for what it is. 

The man beating Sylvain up is big and doesn't even look in Felix's direction as he steps closer. Not until Felix steps in his way, stopping his next punch with an open palm. 

"Out of the way," the man warns him. "That piece of shit isn't worth it. Quickly, before I make you regret it."

Felix scoffs quietly, stepping into the man's space and hooking a foot behind his ankle, throwing him off balance and onto the ground with a crash. 

"Stay down, if you know what's good for you." 

"Fucking brat," another man—probably a friend—growls, charging at Felix and followed by another. 

Felix headbutts the first, his bike helmet making a solid thump on contact and sending the man reeling. The second tries to tackle Felix to the ground but he's slow and easy to avoid. Felix steps back, grabbing his arm and using his momentum against him until he's joined both his friends on the ground. 

He waits, just in case anyone else is going to try. When he's met with silence, he exhales slowly and nods at the onlookers. They're quick to disperse, picking the three up off the ground and guiding them away to safety. 

Felix turns, looking down at where Sylvain is sitting on the street, leaning back against a lamp post. 

"I had that guy on the ropes," Sylvain says through a bloody smile. "I was totally going to win. Didn't need your help but hey, thanks anyway."

Felix exhales slowly, letting the anger drain out of him the way his therapist makes him practice before he speaks again. "No. If I hadn't stepped in, you weren't going to win that fight. You were going to die." 

He doesn't expect Sylvain to laugh, tipping his head back until it's resting against the lamp post. He grins up at the sky. "Well, you sound sure of yourself. Are you a grim reaper? There's no other way you'd be so sure about it. I have to say, though. None of the other reapers I've seen have a body like yours." 

Felix comes to two sudden realisations: that Sylvain is flirting with him, and that he has no idea who Felix is. 

Right, the helmet. He pulls it off, shaking his hair loose and glaring down at Sylvain. "Better?"

Sylvain laughs louder this time, until he's breathless. "Ah. Felix. Been a while."

"It's been five years," Felix replies. "Get up off the ground."

Sylvain holds a hand out, waiting for Felix to offer to help him. Felix does, but not without rolling his eyes first. Sylvain almost pulls him off balance as he gets to his feet. 

"Well, that wasn't how I imagined I'd see you again," Sylvain says with a sigh. Before Felix can process that, or even begin to think about Sylvain thinking about seeing him again, Sylvain starts speaking again. "Can I get you a drink? You know, to thank you for saving my life."

"I know a place," Felix replies. He jerks his chin towards his bike. "I'm parked over there. Come on." 

"No helmet for your passengers?" Sylvain asks, as he sits behind Felix. His hands are large. It feels like they almost span his waist. "It's like you don't care."

"You'll live," Felix says, kick starting his bike. Sylvain says something else but thankfully, it's drowned out by the engine and the wind.

He drives until he's in the part of the city he's more familiar with, parking in front of an all-night café. He leads the way in without checking to see if Sylvain's following. Hubert is behind the counter as usual; he and Felix catch each other's eyes and then ignore each other as Felix walks over to his usual booth. 

"This isn't the kind of drink I had in mind," Sylvain says with a quiet laugh.

"I know what you were offering," Felix cuts in. "But if you expect me to stay awake enough to actually talk to you, I'm going to need coffee." 

"Fine. What do you want? My shout." 

Before Felix can even reply, Hubert appears at the table, setting down a steaming pot of coffee.

"Your usual," Hubert says, as if Felix should be embarrassed about giving him steady business. Neither of them comment on the warm towel he places down for Sylvain to clean the blood off his face. "And for your… friend?"

Felix sighs, gesturing at the menu. Sylvain flips through it and orders something so syrupy that Felix barely suppresses a shudder and Hubert doesn't even try to suppress his disdain. 

"Is your friend a vampire?" Sylvain asks, reaching for the towel and dabbing at the worst of his injuries.

Felix clicks his tongue. "He's not—"

"A vampire?" Sylvain raises an eyebrow.

"My friend," Felix clarifies. "If you can't answer that question yourself, the rumours I've heard about you _must_ be true."

"Oh well, you know rumours have to come from somewhere, right?" Sylvain asks with a wink. "Take your pick. They're probably all at least a little true."

Felix frowns. "That aside, aren't you going to ask how I knew to find you? It's been five years and I didn't even know you were in town but you were losing a fight and I found you. Aren't you even a little curious?"

Sylvain leans back in his seat and sighs softly. "You're going to tell me anyway."

"Do you remember the promise we made when we were kids?" Felix asks. _Promise_ is a light way of putting something that they didn't realise they'd charged with more magic than they knew how to control. It's a pact. A binding. 

Their lives, intertwined. _We'll stay together until we die together_. A reassurance, turned into a sentence. 

The problem with letting children play in libraries filled with ancient magic, especially when Sylvain was a voracious reader and Felix always encouraged him to show off: the spell that took up residence in the back of Sylvain's mind wouldn't mean anything until after half a year later, given life with the strong magic that ran through Felix's veins and their combined sincerity when they promised to be inseparable. Felix, for all his ability to pick spells apart and undo them, has always found the threads of this particular one too tangled to even know where to begin. He's stopped trying a long time ago, too frustrated by his failure, too hurt by Sylvain's absence.

Sylvain says nothing. Felix exhales loudly through his nose.

"Do you even know what it felt like? Like a thousand little pinpricks that hook their way under your skin and pull—"

"—Until you can't ignore them. Until you feel sick," Sylvain finishes for him. He's not smiling any more and the hazelnut brown of his eyes has lost its light. "You don't need to tell me, Felix. I've felt it too. I remember it. You were in the car with Glenn when he had his accident, after all."

Felix stops short, blinking with surprise. 

Most of the time, people only remember Glenn being in the accident. They forget about Felix, trapped in the seat beside him and watching him bleed out, screaming his throat raw for his brother to open his eyes. Glenn is the one who sustained the serious injuries, who was in the hospital for months and in physical therapy for longer. It's Glenn who still uses a cane seven years later, while Felix walked away with nothing worse than a few scratches. 

Truth be told, sometimes Felix forgets he was there too. 

The silence that stretches between them is an uncomfortable one, until Sylvain clears his throat.

"How's Glenn doing these days, anyway?"

Felix scowls. "You wouldn't have to ask if you didn't just up and leave at the first opportunity you got, you know. Not even a single look back, like none of us were even worth your time." 

Sylvain says nothing for a moment and Felix wishes he could bask in his victory but he only feels hollowed out. 

After a breath, Sylvain speaks again. "Do you remember what happened after the accident?"

"What kind of question is that?" Felix scoffs. "Of course I remember. Glenn—"

"What I'm asking," Sylvain interrupts, "is if you remember what happened, with you?"

Felix frowns. "What do you mean?"

Sylvain rubs a hand over his face, then winces when he accidentally presses down on his swollen cheek. "I was in the middle of dinner with my family when it happened, you know. I still remember how my parents were arguing about whether Miklan was going to apprentice with that potion maker my father knew, and then suddenly I felt it out of nowhere. I thought I was sick, or that I was _going_ to be sick. It was so bad I ended up excusing myself because I thought I was going to throw up and by the time I came back to the table, my mother was on the phone with yours and all I could make out was the fact that you'd been in an accident. I realised what the feeling was. I realised what it meant. I thought you were dead."

"Oh," Felix says softly. 

"I begged my mother to take me to the hospital with her. I ran ahead of her like—like, I don't know. Like I could make a difference, somehow. When I saw you sitting there, alive and safe, I felt something break in me."

"You were crying," Felix remembers. He rubs his thumb back and forth along his coffee mug. "You wouldn't let go of me and you wouldn't stop crying. I thought it was because of Glenn. He was in ER. We didn't know if he'd make it. I think I hugged you back and cried too."

Sylvain gives him a strained smile. "Felix. I didn't leave your side for days. I couldn't bring myself to. You thought it was annoying."

"I called you clingy." Felix meets Sylvain's gaze and does his best to hold it. "I thought that was about Glenn too." 

"It wasn't," Sylvain tells him. "It was never about Glenn. I realised how terrified I was of losing you. Not because of our promise or what it meant for me. I just… didn't know how I'd live without you."

"Well." Felix huffs out an empty laugh. "I guess you won't have to worry about that. Our lives are linked, whether we like it or not. Is that why you left?"

"I was afraid," Sylvain admits. "I never wanted to feel that again. I didn't know what to do about it. When I got protective of you, it just ended up pissing you off. You became so angry after everything that happened with Glenn. You wouldn't stop picking fights and I couldn't watch. I kept waiting for you to pick the wrong fight, for that feeling to come back."

"It didn't, though." Felix fold his arms across his chest, resting them on the table. "I could handle myself. You were just running away. From me. From us."

"And here we are." Sylvain sighs. He looks up as his drink arrives. It's not Hubert who brings it but Ferdinand, who smiles at Sylvain with a glint of teeth. 

Felix bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his smirk. Hubert only sends Ferdinand out to deal with the customers he can't stand. Apparently, the syrup abomination dripping condensation in front of Sylvain is enough to earn his displeasure. 

"Glenn is fine, by the way," Felix answers at length. "He'll be glad to know you asked."

Sylvain takes it for the olive branch that it is and smiles across the table. Felix looks away, feeling inordinately warm. 

He realises that he's missed this. They were so close before and Felix never knew what happened to that until now, realising that it's always been because of their promise. After all this time, despite how angry he's been at the fact that they haven't seen each other, Felix has missed Sylvain like missing a part of himself. 

"I missed you," Sylvain murmurs, like he's picked the words right out of Felix's mind. He always used to be good at doing that. He smiles at Felix again from across the table. "I'm glad we ran into each other again. I wasn't lying earlier, you know. You look good."

"Shut up and drink your liquid sugar," Felix snaps, feeling his face grow warm. "…You probably don't look half bad yourself, when you're not covered in bruises."

"Hold on, I've got this," Sylvain says, holding his hands to his face. Felix watches as he heals himself, cuts closing and bruises fading into nothing. Sylvain winks at him. "What do you think?"

"Not bad," Felix huffs, trying not to smile. 

"Good enough to have dinner with?" Sylvain asks. His tone is light and casual, but the way his gaze searches Felix's face is anything but. "Tomorrow night. Anywhere you want. I'll pay. I just want to see you again." 

"Yeah." Felix watches the way Sylvain's face lights up. "I want that too."

**Author's Note:**

> yell with me about sylvix on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kiyala)


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